This morning dawned bright and glorious. Today is the last day of standard time, so it'll be dark again in the morning for a while (at least until the summer solstice, when the sun rises at like 4:30am).
Sunny mornings like today's make we want to jump out of bed and do something productive. The fact that the kids were in our room by 6:00 helped, too. So today, I went on an excursion to Borough Market by myself. I've written about the market before, and we went every Saturday religiously last summer. Visiting the Market makes me to think creatively about food. The rich palate of colors, sights and smells splashed boldly against a backdrop of ancient brick and Victorian iron make it nearly impossible not to be inspired to reach for a new culinary experience.
Today, though, was even better. I rarely get to go to the market without the kids, and never before about 10:00. Today I found myself climbing up from the London Bridge tube station at about 8:15. The streets around the market were empty, so much so that I was thinking that maybe it was closed for the winter right up until I turned into the alley that runs along the side of the market and saw the familiar reds, greens and yellows of the produce stall. Today, I could get as close as I wanted to the stalls. Today, I could browse at a leisurely pace. Today, I actually got to talk to some of the vendors.
Today, I am making sea bass.
Fish is good for us. We should eat more of it. As a kid, I never really liked fish. It was too, well, fishy. I liked fish sticks, though, which back in the 70's actually contained some fish. Ah, the good old days. But I digress.
I had gone with the intention of buying sea bass filets, since I know there are several fishmongers there. I figured I'd make the rest up based on what looked good. Trouble is, everything looked good. It was a difficult decision, but I finally settled on pan-fried sea bass with red chillies and fennel, asparagus and baby carrots and boiled new potatoes. Hm, but wait, that rocket looks good. Maybe a rocket salad to start. With fennel, stilton and a light vinaigrette. Wait, I can't put fennel in the fish, too. Oh, damn.
My first challenge was the fish. As one accustomed to buying his fish in filet form, the prospect of fileting my very expensive sea bass was somewhat daunting. In hindsight, I should have bought a few trout or something to practice on. The web is a great source of information, as I've alluded to previously, but it's difficult to learn from photos how to deal with fish on the hoof, as it were.
I managed to mangle the first attempt, eventually producing two thin strips of pinkish almost boneless flesh. The second turned out much better, though I nearly destroyed that one trying to remove the skin. We'll just have to eat them with the skin on. And watch out for bones.
The carnage over, fish parts sprayed around the kitchen, a sensible person would have taken pity on the poor creature gazing sadly up at me, covered in its own offal. A sensible person would have tossed away the carcass, happy to quit while he's ahead. A sensible person would have poured a glass of wine and read a book. Not me, though. What do you do with a perfectly good fish carcass? You make fish stock, of course! This required another heretofore unattempted feat of knifework, that of removing the gills.
Outside of high school biology, in which I paid very little attention, I haven't dealt with fish gills. Ever. Fortunately, Google came to my rescue yet again, finding for me a helpful diagram of how to remove the gills from a fish. It's a messy process, at least the way I do it.
I'm still cooking, so the menu might change, but here's what I have so far:
- Rocket salad with fennel and stilton, vinaigrette dressing
- Pan fried sea bass with thyme, chillies, leeks and lemon, sauce veloute
- Baby carrots and asparagus
- Boiled new potatoes
- Pear and dark chocolate tartelets
- A 2006 Viognier, highly recommended by my friends at Wimbledon Wine Cellar.
We'll see how this all turns out.
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